Thursday, January 16, 2014

Rectangular notes

The lesson of a rectangle is harsh. Geometrically speaking, its sharpness, though crisp, reveals truth. So to alleviate the pain, add fringes to both ends.

Any imagined hierarchy still hurts to swallow, though.

Rendezvous

Up north
down the block

martinis
neatly shaken
with lychee,
jalapeño
and soju

to order

fresh saudade
sautéed
atop scallioned
omelet

no yukhoe
tonight

maybe
too raw

waiting on
Helen and Mark
later than sooner

on the half shell
bluepoints, malpeques,
kumamotos

around the corner
from Maatsumoto
deaf father and son

look for

white Doric columns
red hand-railing
three-story grey stone

the house
on Foster

is empty

no one home
except us

flipping
plastic-covered
ring-bound

colorless
family tree
deep rooted

our sanctuary
lies sixty degrees
Fahrenheit
cooler

body heat
furnace blow
whispered coos

tongue earlobe
follow neck contour
adagio

areola
then circle
nipple

as you
engulf

Tuesday, January 07, 2014

Upstairs, downstairs

Cloistered

in her bedroom
on the second floor,
Grandmother
now ninety-six years old

watches
WGN-TV News
in the dark
to save electricity

while
in the apartment
below

the thin
Disney themed quilt
barely blankets
their nakedness

as he ensconces
her warm body
from behind,

cuddling
arms, legs

skin


Thursday, January 02, 2014

Posing

Faceless,
nude

lithe and tawny
Neruda said

shame
she is

jigsawed,

detached legs
sometimes arms
growing many newer
prismatic limbs,

either glorified hosiery
collaged
as repurposed Barbie

or even Kali

transporting
piggybacked head shots
parading across pages

or montaged torso

her lower body
arched and kneeling
waist down morphed
four ways

mutated Doctor Dolittle species

silver haunches
like a rotating bowl of pears
Esther Williams dives into
bird's eye view

with a huge splash

a lovely Busby Berkeley musical
production

back then

once her lone muse
now mine

from pictures to words

now reassembled
beautifully whole

figure to behold

forever
in fine print.

Wednesday, January 01, 2014

Going home

Last night a breath shared
and lips partially parted
warming the cockles

as the music lulled past midnight
in a castle nearly forgotten,

caught off guard
those early to bed

A dangerous liaison?
Who expected
Not I

You belonged to an ideal,

a romanticism
huddled beneath
the forlorn disco ball,
tequila, and lukewarm
cans of Squirt

No wonder saints
deigned to rendezvous
anew resuscitated
architecture

where barrel vaulted windows
frame clove and mistletoe
inhaled together,
algid

Horace Greeley beckons
heed his prophecy

It awaits,
your hibernaculum

But no matter how faraway
I will come

A short affair

Out of sight
so quickly

Some other time
soon for sure

lying in wait

No picture
in anticipation
to appease
the absence-

No, wait-

the emptiness
close up
so far
and few between

Unhappy
about who
you are
too beautiful

Adorned
naked to the eye
on glossy paper

Let me see